


your sweet talk, sweet talk

by siyatania



Series: modern AU klance [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Keith bottoms, M/M, Slice of Life, and having an aneurysm, even though they have been dating for ages, hoo boy self indulgence, if thats not love idk what the fuck is, its like 80 percent bickering and 20 percent actual sex, lance calls keith a manlet and still gets some, lance pov, lance typing 'keith kogane no cloths' into google images, sex with feelings, they are both in their twenties and in love, this fic is the equivalent of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 16:02:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14751968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siyatania/pseuds/siyatania
Summary: “Do you want me to lose my scholarship?”“You really shouldn’t worry about that,” Lance grins, lifting up an ankle and rolling them back over. “I can give you a full ride-"“-I can’t believe you just said that-”Basically, Lance tries to see how much he can bicker with Keith and still get laid (an amazing amount, because Keith is fucking gone on him.)





	your sweet talk, sweet talk

**Author's Note:**

> this was all written in one sitting out of stress and its probably pretty sloppy but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 

“That was fast, ah, even for you,” Keith pants, resting his hand against his chest, over his heart.

“What the- you came too, stupid! Who the hell, ah, even says that after sex?” Lance snaps, although it comes out too breathless (and too fond) for it to have any real bite. He’s got his hands on the counter, either side of where Keith is splayed, legs still spread. Peering down at the sticky sheen on Keith’s stomach, up to his flushed, still heaving chest, he lets out a defeated kind of groan. God, he can’t catch a break. Every damn angle of his jackass boyfriend is straight out of a fantasy.

He receives a smirk in return. Lance resists the urge to cover his eyes. He’s not strong enough to deal with direct exposure to Keith’s smirks right now. “You smacked my head against the cabinet,” Keith drawls, “that’s not very sweet either.”

Lance tries to act as dejected as possible while pressing kisses down onto the top of his boyfriend’s head. “Don’t worry babe, we’ll get you a helmet. Shiro always thought you needed one, anyway.” This gets him a hard push, and he almost knocks their skulls together as Keith attempts to slip from under him.

“Not this time, hotshot.” Lance skilfully uses the opportunity get his hands on Keith’s ass.

 “What the –" Keith yelps, but Lance is already yanking him off the counter, holding him up against himself and walking them towards the bathroom. A nice, long shower fuck to follow up their kitchen quickie sounds good right about now. He’s busy enjoying the feeling of Keith’s naked skin against his (he feels drunk on it already but he wants to get _wasted_ ), when Keith shifts and he almost drops him. “Lance!”

 “You know, you’re pretty heavy for a manlet,” Lance grunts out after he’s regained his hold, only to experience another near-drop as his boyfriend retaliates by attempting to swing his foot into the back of his thighs.

“You’re – _don’t you_ dare _drop me_ – only two inches taller than me, you dick.” He clings on tighter out of reflexive fear as Lance tries unsuccessfully to open the bathroom with his hip, shouting when Lance lets go with one hand to twist the doorknob. “ ** _Lance!_** -"

Lance shushes him. “Baby, quiet down. You don’t want to deal with the neighbours complaining, do you? Although they probably already heard you, going-"

“-Shut up _holy shit_ -"

“- _Don’t stop, oh, oh, Lance you’re so big_ -"

“- _Oh my fucking God_ -"

“- _just like that, big boy, give it to me hard_ -"

“-I am going to kill you in your sleep,” Keith bites out lowly, hanging heavily onto Lance and glaring. Death threats or not, Lance can’t help kissing him on the cheek as he deposits him gently.

Keith visibly softens at the action but still gives an affronted huff. Lance wants to scream at how adorable he is. “Do you _really_ have to-"

“-thoughtfully offer to help wash that smelly mullet?”

Lance can’t help giggling as Keith groans in despair. He really shouldn’t be so mean – they’ve come so far since their freshman year rivalry – but old habits die hard and Keith is still very much attractive and very much _naked_ , so Lance no longer has the ability to prioritise correctly.

Besides, Lance manages catch sight of the upturned corner of Keith’s mouth before he turns and steps into the shower. It’s all Lance can do to follow him in, spinning him around and kissing him hard.

Keith breaks off first. “Lance, I have a lecture this afternoon. I need to review.”

Ugh. Despite his general impulsivity, Keith was also huge, dedicated nerd. He put a lot work into maintaining his perfect grades, and Lance loved that about him. But that doesn’t stop Lance from whining “Couldn’t you have reviewed last night?”

“I tried, remember, but you-" Lance kisses him again, distracting him long enough to reach around for the tap –

Subsequently blasting them with freezing cold water.

“Shit, cold, cold, cold-“ Keith leans as far back as he can from the spray, away from Lance. Things were not happening according to plan. “Y- you know it needs a minute to warm up!”

Lance, meanwhile, is trying to blink what feels like fucking glacier water out of his eyes. He frowns at Keith’s half-damp head hair and promptly wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders, putting himself in the way of the waters flow. “I’m sorry, I just – you know, I thought all that scholarship money was worth more than a pea-size water tank.”

Keith sighs, tucking his head into Lance’s shoulder. He presses his lips to Lance’s collarbone. It’s a small gesture – not quiet a kiss, but a warm, soft, resting of the lips against him – that _does things_ to the pit of Lance’s stomach.

“I feel like is this is taking longer than a minute, babe,” Lance murmurs into the dark strands above Keith’s ear, trying to distract himself from the iciness at his back. “I would be dead of hypothermia right now if you weren’t so hot.”

The upwards twitch of Keith’s lip against his skin has him promptly has him tightening his arms, feeling him shake slightly with laughter. When Keith looks up at him, utterly beautiful, eyes impossibly soft and gorgeous and crinkling at the corners, it takes Lance a second to realise that there are _actual words_ leaving Keith’s mouth as it moves. “I love you so much, idiot.”

Lance breathes, or tries to as Keith presses their lips together. “I-" he gets out before Keith kisses him again, deeper, “love you too- mmph!”

Keith’s hand traces lines across Lance’s back as they kiss, and when the water trailing down it runs warm he shifts his face back, gently guiding them both underneath the shower head.

Lance’s eyes follow the wet strands stuck along Keith’s jaw, pointing down towards that perfect neck. It just begs for attention, so he can’t help but press biting kisses to it, enjoying the way Keith shudders.

“How,” Lance murmurs between kisses, sliding his hands from Keith’s shoulders to his lower back, “are you so perfect.” One hand skates lower, groping Keith’s bottom, eliciting a startled gasp and a _wonderful_ jerk of the others hips into his.

“What are you talking about, pervert?” Keith mutters, sounding flustered. Lance only nods in return.

“Yeah, you’re right, I am, so let’s do something more perverted.” Lance pushes him back against the tiles, grabbing onto his hipbones, and _grinds_ himself against Keith (and Jesus, he’s still slick from his last orgasm, the one _Lance_ gave him – and that’s enough to make him rock his hips even _harder._ ) Keith makes a small, choked off noise at the contact, and Lance just grins, watches the colour rise up his cheeks and glossy, wet hair paint itself harshly down pale skin.

“You look so perfect like this,” Lance hums, switching up the long, slow rolls of his hips, for teasing, shallow rubbing.

“Shut up, you’re the one who’s perf-" Suddenly, Keith knots his fingers into Lance’s hair and he gives it a tug, sharper than strictly necessary. “Wait, stop messing around, I’m going to be late for class.”

“Class can wait, Keith, your _perfect_ boyfriend is currently naked, and touching you in your shower.”

“Lance, you-" he starts, but Lance cuts him off with a sucking bite to the neck and rough thrust, making whatever argument he was about to put up trail off into a sweet gasp.

A dirty sounding pop follows, echoing off the tiles as he lifts his mouth from Keith’s abused throat. Lance takes a moment to admire his handiwork, drifts his fingers across the skin, pressing lightly, making Keith shudder. He smiles, aiming for innocent, but he unabashedly loves the way Keith looks with _his_ marks adorning that fair neck.

“That better be low enough to hide,” Keith breathes. (It isn’t – but who knows what kind of shady, desperate individuals attend Keith’s courses; he swears he’s just looking after his boyfriend’s best interests.)

He chooses not to respond to that in the interest of furthering current events, licking after a trail of moisture on Keith’s ridiculous jawline. It’s short work to slide his hand between their bodies, fingers wrapping around both their erections. Keith lets out another soft, pleased sound.

Lance can’t stop his lips from turning upwards into a smug smile. Heat builds higher in his stomach as he strokes them together, slow and full, alternating between light and heavy touches. He feels Keith’s eyelashes flutter shut against his cheek, and he nudges the other man’s head up, giving him a deep kiss. He breaks the kiss to mutter, voice husky. “Well, I think I figured out how I managed to become such a bad influence on Mr. Keith “Perfect” Kogane, now.”

“Was it, ah, by being quiet?” tries Keith, pressing his forehead stubbornly against Lance’s – one of those inexplicable things that Keith does, like the way he always falls over gracefully, like a cat, or the way he always has to measure out ingredients _exactly_ when he cooks, or the dumb little sounds he makes when he struggles with a particularly hard textbook problem, or – or a million other stupid, adorable things that Lance has been studiously not-noticing about Keith ever since they first met.

Suddenly Lance has no more patience for teasing, his hand stuttering to a stop between them.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “Open your eyes.” He can pretend to be as smooth as he wants, but in the end it always comes down to those fucking _ridiculous_ pretty eyes, the dark ones look up at him now. “I want to fuck you. Can I badly influence you some more?”

He expects the colour to smudge across Keith’s cheeks, and the exhaled, embarrassed noise. What he does not expect, however, is for Keith to reply in an overly fond, exasperated voice, “it’s not really a bad influence if I already want you to.”

When Lance gasps dramatically, Keith adds an emphatic “idiot.” Which is the probably the only thing that saves him from spontaneous combustion.

After a too-long moment of recovery, Lance pushes him back against the wall, covering his mouth in a searing kiss. Keith kiss back with maddening slowness and nibbling, probably knowing exactly how its affecting Lance and trying to ruin his plans like an asshole as usual. Except it succeeds, because suddenly the shower isn’t going to cut it anymore. He needs a _bed_ to fuck Keith into, needs to hear the creak of Keith’s mattress, needs to see that shitty, infuriatingly soft mullet spread out over the sheets.

When he shuts off the shower, Keith startles, “Lance, what –"

“You’re going to need to take another shower later, sweetheart,” he replies shortly, grabbing him by the wrist and leading him out of the bathroom.

Keith drags Lance with him as he hits the bed, leaning up to kiss his chest. “I’m going to fail this class,” he mutters resignedly.

“As if it’s possible for you to fail anything, baby. Just get Matt to tutor you,” Lance dismisses, fingers sliding down Keith’s abdomen, tracing around his bellybutton. Keith squirms away from the hand with a chuckle, so Lance’s tongue finds a nipple to lave at, and the nature of the squirming changes.

“He’d probably be a shitty tutor.” Keith protests distractedly. “What kind of tutoring can anyone expect from _him_?”

Lance really, really, _really_ doesn’t want to talk about Matt Holt right now. “Lessons in bad hair. Luckily you don’t need any more of those.”

Keith covers his face in despair as Lance reaches out to the bedside table. “I’ll throw you out the window, Lance I swear to God-"

“-Where are the tissues?” Lance asks incredulously.

“I moved them.”

“Why would you move them?”

“They looked dirty next to the bed!”

“Of course they do, they’re there for a dirty reason.” Lance slides a hand lower, teasing, “Although I do like how you look covered in my-"

“ ** _Lance!_** ”

“I was going to say kisses. However, your enthusiasm for shouting my name gets an A-, just make it a little less bloodthirsty next time, and we’ll be really making progress.” Lance realises, somewhere in the back of his brain where there’s still a little bit blood left to work with, that teasing Keith like this is probably self-sabotaging his chances of getting laid, and that he should probably stop it right now.

Should stop, but probably won’t. Keith is too naked and too sexy and too Keith-like. He just can’t help himself.

Unfortunately, as Lance is reminded as he’s peppering a few sucking kisses to the curve of Keith’s shoulder, his boyfriend isn’t the type to let these things go without retaliation. “Can you hurry up?”

“Excuse me? Are you complaining about my catering to your uncontained lust-“ He lets out an embarrassing squeak as Keith expertly flips them around with his legs. Stupid sexy martial arts training.

“You better contain it soon, then, because I have Intermediate Archaeological Methods B in-“ He glances at the clock as he grinds down, half-smirking, half-grimacing, “- 43 minutes.”

“Are you still going on about that? Now? really?”

“Do you want me to lose my scholarship?”

“You really shouldn’t worry about that,” Lance grins, lifting up an ankle and rolling them back over. “I can give you a full ride-"

“- _I can’t believe you just said that_ -”

“-And I can’t believe you’re still complaining. You’re going to hurt my feelings, babe.” He lifts both Keith’s legs in the air, cheerfully watching as he turns an interesting shade of red. He drops between them, fumbling with what he snagged out of the nightstand.

After a few frustrating moments, he tosses the lube on Keith’s chest. “Baby, help me out. Not all of us have ninja-level coordination.”

“I should shoot this in your eyes” Keith deadpans, glaring at Lance’s smugly held out hand.

“Sweetheart, I though you wanted to skip the foreplay.”

Keith pours the cool gel onto Lance’s palm and huffs, obviously about to snap out an insult, so Lance very quickly drops his hand to give him a few slick, heavy strokes. Keith chokes, arching up off the goddamn bed, and yep, _fuck_ , he’s not going to be able to forget that image anytime soon. The sight prompts the last few drops of blood remaining in his brain to evacuate. It’s the only explanation he can give for what comes out of his mouth.

“Last chance to go to class, babe, what’s it going to be?”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Lance, stop-"

“Stop?” He slides his hand down and back, stroking two fingers teasingly across tight, hidden muscle. “Make up your mind already, jeez.”

“I’m going fucking _assassinate_ you.”

“You want me to keep going?” He presses his fingers against the resistance, slipping them all the way inside only to pull them out again.

Keith glares, grabbing Lance’s wrist and scowling. “Keep. Going.”

Lance grins, obligingly rocking his fingers back and forth, pressing and stretching. “See, I’d know these things if you just told me, baby.”

“I, ah, hate you, so much.” Lance slides his fingers in deeper, enjoying the way Keith’s hips jump and twitch.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He starts thrusting his fingers rhythmically and Keith groans, legs trembling and falling wider. He presses a kiss to the knee closest to his face, and when he looks back his boyfriend is working a hand down his length, to the same rhythm that Lance is pushing his fingers inside. Fuck.

When he finally tears his eyes away from the movement of Keith’s hand, from his own fingers disappearing in and out of his body, he find’s Keith’s gaze trained intensely on him, sweat at his temples and his hair mussed. He almost chokes, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. “Ready, babe?”

“Yes,” Keith sighs, somewhat shakily, sitting up and moving away. Lance barely has time to register his panicked confusion before he suddenly has a lap full of boyfriend, kissing him intensely.

There are not enough tissues in the world, Lance thinks, as he rolls on a condom and fumbles for that stupid lube again. He can’t be blamed if he accidently uses too much, what with Keith looking down at him like that, like he wants to fucking eat him.

He grabs a thigh as Keith slowly lowers himself, a hundred nerves sparking as he bears down. “Oh shit, oh fuck” he breaths, fisting the sheets, “holy shit, you feel so _good_ Keith.”

Keith makes a satisfied sound as he sinks down fully, arms wrapped around Lance’s shoulders, and he kisses him again as he rocks himself shallowly a few times before starting up a harsh rhythm.

“Oh my fucking shit,” he blurts dazedly, voice an octave too high “just like that, Keith…”

“Lance,” Keith gasps, after some time, gripping his shoulders almost painfully, trying to crush their bodies together. “Lance.”

Lance takes the hint, leaning forward until Keith’s back is resting on the mattress and presses their chests together, thrusting hard, feeling the shudder of pleasure run all the way up through Keith’s torso.  “Found it,” he breathes happily, and repeats the motion in an unforgiving succession that has Keith crying out.

“You sure don’t seem, like you care about, haah, Archeological Methods, now Keith?” Lance comments breathlessly, using his right hand to lace together their fingers.

“If you, don’t, shut-“ Keith starts, but Lance knows this means “fuck me harder” in Keith Language, and so he complies, like the considerate and loving boyfriend that he is. As engaging as it is teasing Keith, there’s no way to concentrate on teasing anymore, not with how fucking good that tight heat feels clenching around him, not with those _sounds_ , soft and loud, pouring from Keith under him.

“You look so beautiful Keith, so wonderful beneath me,” the words tumble out over Keith’s own choked off moans, “I love you so fucking much.”

“I, ah, I love you too Lance,” Keith bites out angling his head up to kiss him. “I love you.”

Fuck, he’s getting close. His thrusting is growing in intensity, losing some of its rhythm, when Keith lets out a sudden groan. It has Lance noticing Keith’s elbow moving underneath him. Shit, he’s close enough as it is, he doesn’t need to know that Keith’s touching himself, quite enthusiastically, on top of it all.

He doesn’t really need what follows, either, which is a drawn-out, trembling sound and an overwhelmed, full-body shiver as Keith comes all down Lance’s front and fuck, Lance barely lasts another thirty seconds before he’s also over the edge, latching onto that perfect neck to try and muffle his moan.

It’s a few long, gasping moments before he’s able to get control of his tongue again, and all Lance manages to say is an “oh, shit” in warning before letting his whole body slide forward. Keith lets out an “oomph”, and then whimpers tiredly, hips writhing in oversensitivity.

After a while, Keith mumbles “you’re squashing me,” but calloused fingers are at his head, pushing short locks off his hot skin. It feels nice, and Lance doesn’t want to do anything to discourage it, like moving.

“Lance.”

He feels Keith’s leg twinge, and he can’t help but smile as he rolls off, grabbing himself a pliant armful of mullet. He drops a hand low, sliding it neatly into the small of Keith’s back, fingers idly brushing his ass. “What’s wrong, baby? Tired?”

“M’fine.”

“Liar. I can see you right now, you know. All sleepy and adorable.” Lance presses a kiss to his face. “It’s cute how quickly you drop off after sex. Like all your usual fire and determination has been drained out of you.”

Keith huffs, burying his reddening face in Lance’s neck. “Can’t you stop teasing me and go to sleep afterwards, like a normal person?”

“But Keith! A normal person could not do what I just did!”

He feels a smile against his skin. “…Maybe not”

“Only maybe? Please have a little faith in your man, babe. They don’t call me Loverboy Lance for nothing.” He’s thoroughly ruined, though, he can hear the overwhelming happiness and affection he feels in own damn voice.

“…I have faith that you will never be quiet.” Keith’s voice, on the other hand, is getting sluggish. Cute.

Lance ducks his head, pressing a kiss to messy bangs. “Hey now, I just finished proving which who the noisy one is, here. If you need another demonstration, just give me twenty minutes and one of Hunk’s leftover sandwiches, and-“

Keith groans, tilting his head up to catch Lance’s mouth. The kiss is uncoordinated, warm and spreading, like ice cream melting in the sun. “Shush.” A hand tangles in Lance’s hair again, stroking and affectionate. “I love you. But, shush.”

Eyes lidding in comfort, Lance lets out a contented sigh and finally, _finally_ shuts up.

“… So how tired are we talking here? Is round three totally out of the question, or…?”

“ _For fuck's sake_ , Lance.”

For a few minutes, anyway.

 

**Author's Note:**

> roast me in the comments lads


End file.
